In the End
by moonbunny31
Summary: The "birth" of the ghosts


Beware

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

George was not a morning person. He was especially not a three o'clock in the morning person. He was more of a night individual but he needed a job and the dock was the only place that called back. Still, it was easy enough and at least all the boxes were square which made them easy to stack.

Early mornings aside, he did a good job. A few months past and he began training the new hires. They were mostly teenagers during the summer and most didn't last the season but George tried his best to show them how to do the job right. Mostly they just made fun of him when they thought his back was turned.

"Put your gloves on, Bobby." "Don't put the heavier boxes on the top, Justin." "Lift with your knees!" "Don't just throw the boxes willy-nilly. Show some respect." Sometimes it seemed he was talking to himself which he soon realized eh was. When they weren't slacking off they had their headphones on. George eventually got used to it but it didn't stop him from trying. He figured eventually someone would listen to him.

Wednesday was like every other day. He snapped his overalls on and slipped his cap on his head. He made it to the dock just as the cargo ship pulled in. Nobody else was around but he wasn't surprised. Bobby had recently quit and the others were known for not showing up until well after sunrise at the earliest if they bothered to show up at all. It was just as well; it looked like a small shipment. He could handle it by himself with no problems.

He singed for the shipment before pulling on his gloves and set to work. The boxes were heavier than last week. George had been at this work for a few years so it wasn't much of an issue but he still had a weakness for donut holes with his coffee. Sometimes he'd get a whole box of them and end up eating them all himself which did not help his overall physique. He just hoped that the whole shipment wasn't of the same thing.

It was. George grunted as he continued. He took a break by sitting on one of the boxes. He hoped somebody would come in to give him a hand; he was starting to get dizzy. He took the handkerchief out of his back pocket to wipe his forehead and back of his neck.

"Sorry I'm late." George looked up and saw Justin walking in. He could tell from his tone that Justin wasn't sorry at all but at least he was in fact early by normal standards.

George swayed as he stood up and put his handkerchief back. "Oh, that's okay. Just grab your gloves and give me a hand." Justing shrugged. "Be careful; these boxes are heavy." He could hear the younger boy snort. He probably thought that George was old and couldn't handle the weight. Well, that was alright. Justin would see soon enough.

For all his optimism and fairness, he couldn't help but smile when he heard Justin groan as he picked up his first box. The smile faded when the box was then tossed to the side, barely making to the others and landing on the wrong side.

"Watch what you're doing!" George walked over and righted the box. "You can't just throw it. There could be something fragile in there."

"You don't even know what's in here?"

"It doesn't matter. These boxes need to go somewhere."

"Dude, that's messed up." Justin put his headphones on and turned to another box.

Would no one listen to him? George grabbed Justin's shoulder to face him and ripped the headphones off. "No, _duuude_, what's 'messed up' is that you don't care. You may not think so but getting these products where they need to go is important. I do the job and I'm proud of the paycheck I've earned."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Justin took his headphones back.

It means you're lazy. You're all lazy!" It felt good to say it. "You act like this is a punishment when you should be grateful you even have a job." He poked the boy in the shoulder. "You don't deserve it."

"Don't touch me, old man!" Justin shoved George back. What happened next Justin wasn't sure. Perhaps he misjudged his strength or if George was overtired and overworked. It could have just been catching his foot on one of the boxes. Either way George fell back against a stack of boxes.

Justin was speechless. He stared at George who was sitting on the floor rubbing his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…" His voice trailed off when he noticed the stack George landed on started to wobble. "George!"

The actual use of his first name made him look at the younger man. Justin started forward but it was too late. The stack pitched backward and crashed against another. A domino effect began and a dozen boxes tumbled onto George.

"George?" He wasn't moving. Justin rushed over and moved the boxes as fast as he could. "George!" George's eyes were open and Justin could see blood. "Oh God, George!"

George wasn't sure why but he was looking down at Justin. His coworker looked upset. Whatever it was about they didn't have time. "Hey!"

Justin looked up. There were tears on his face. "George?" He looked down and back up. George followed his gaze.

That was him down there. What was he doing down there?

"You're a…you're…" George wasn't paying attention to Justin at the moment. He stared at himself and realized he felt funny. Not only his head but everything felt fuzzy. He couldn't feel his heartbeat and as freaked out as he was at the moment he couldn't get breath to enter his lungs.

Justin was still staring at him. "Ghost!"

It was at his exclamation that George realized what happened. He died and he was a ghost.

Justin started screaming. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! Please don't hurt me, George. I swear to God, I didn't mean it."

Now Justin was sorry. Now he was afraid of George. All his life he waited for someone to notice him, to respect him. He had to wait until he died. George looked at Justin's terrified face.

"Beware!"


End file.
